the carriage turns into a gate flanked by two high
turreted walls, and a neat little lodge with diamond-
paned windows, peeping out of a mass of ivy, stands
just within. Leaving it on the left, you go up a wide
gravelled drive through an avenue of poplars; the
lawng, which are undulating, and cover about three
acres of ground, are laid out with low terraced walls,
over which in summer time the roses trail in rich pro-
fusion, and edged with a row of weeping ash and elm
trees, they lie on both sides right up to the entrance of
a big red brick house, lavishly covered with ivy,
wisteria, and roses, with quaint gables and many-shaped chimneys, which is altogether most picturesque. A large conservatory unites the right and left wings,
and once within this conservatory it is difficult to
realize that it is still winter. Heated to a pleasant
temperature, full of bright and rare bloom, the gentle
breath of sweet-scented gardenias and tuberoses pervading the atmosphere, cages of many-coloured foreign
birds, a gleam of Moorish lamps against the greenery
overhead, comfortable lounges, wickerwork tables,
Turkish rugs strewn on the tesselated floor—all combine to nake it a delightful place in which to while
away the time, with book or work, in friendly con-
verse, or perhaps in solitary day dreaming.
At the present inoment it is passed in friendly converse. Mrs. Alexander Fraser has received you with much cordiality, and whilst lingering amongst the flowers and the forns, the talk drifts away to India, America, and the Continent of Europe, where she tells you the earlier part of her life was spent, and that for many years past her home has been at
